


Scents.

by sturidge



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sturidge/pseuds/sturidge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes having hypersensitive noses can be such fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scents.

He pushed the door open, gritting his teeth as it cracked and squeaked. Almost holding his breathe, he took careful step in, hoping he'd be heard - which, considering it's Derek, the guy who specialized the "moonwalking into the shadows" style of vanishing, was saying something.

It was hard to say if it was early in the morning or late at night - Derek had lost track of time a couple of hours before. Actually, he'd lost track of a lot of things; his underwear, for example. He'd have to go and get it back some other day. Probably at night, just like now.

They were running out of excuses, anyway.

He was already half-way through the stairs when the lights of the recently-fixed living room were turned on and his uncle cleaned his throat. "Great", he thought, taking a couple of steps back, "just great."

"Out again?" Peter asked, looking him from head to toe. Messy hair, messy clothes, hmm. He was either rolling in the grass or... no, he wasn't rolling in the grass.

"None of your business", Derek answered. Behind them, Isaac came down the stairs, scratching his eyes.

"Out again?" he asked too, tapping Derek on the shoulders.

Derek growled. "None. Of. Your. Business", he said, turning back and heading upstairs. Isaac sat next to Peter, legs on the coffee table.

They both took a deep sniff, looking at each other.

"Stiles", the other Hale said, handing Isaac twenty bucks. "Again."

"You'd think he'd at least wash after they are done", Lahey chuckled. The "where-will-Derek-sneak-up-to-tonight" game they'd been playing all summer was starting to get repetitive; but hey, at least he was gaining some out of it.

Peter smiled. He could almost picture Stiles' face as he came all over his nephew's chest - and why Derek wouldn't want to clean it. "What would be the fun of that?"


End file.
